Marry Screw Kill(32)

Someone created a small sandy beach on a bank of a nearby lake. She dubbed it Minnesota’s Malibu and we’d pretend to be sunning ourselves in California. Playful and carefree, remembering those good times makes me forget where I am for a brief second, until I see her headstone ahead. My eyes blur and I blink away the moisture so I can read the words on the granite—words I chose for her.

Beloved Mother

“Mom …” I settle a hand on top of the unpolished stone and fold to my knees. The impact makes my bag drop beside me and the contents spill onto the grass. My pent-up feelings spill out too as the tightness in my chest releases into sobs. Seconds evolve into minutes as a river of grief flows freely. The ache in my heart hurts so deeply, I can’t catch my breath.

Slowly, my crying subsides and some of the heaviness on my shoulders melts away, but my heart still aches deep within me. I have so many unspoken words to say.

As my breathing calms, I reach for the tissue pack lying spilled from my bag and wipe my cheeks. “I’ve wanted to talk to you for so long. I’ve just never had the courage to face being here alone. But I had to come today. I miss you so much, Mom.” I pause to choke back the tears when I remember her last birthday alive with me. It was a happy day, just the two of us. I baked her favorite carrot cake from scratch and we ate almost the whole thing.

“I’m so sorry. You being here … I feel like it’s my fault.” I take a second to steady my breathing. I’ve uttered my confession of what I did that night to only one other person—James. “I tried to stop Tony and grabbed his arm. Then, the gun … it went off.” I bow my head as tears fall, reliving that moment in my mind—the chain reaction following my action. Would he have shot her if I hadn’t pulled on his arm? The possibility eats at me constantly.

“I’ll never forgive myself. You might still be alive. James, the doctor I met who’s taken care of everything since you ...” I can’t speak, the word died out loud, “he tells me not to blame myself and to tell no one what I did.” I clasp my hands together as they begin to shake.

“I miss you so much and need you now more than ever. James asked me to marry him, and I wanted you with me when I chose my dress. The lady asked if I wanted to take a photo to send to my mother.” I remember the owner’s sad eyes and apologies. It ruined the special day.

“I planned to wear your strand of pearls when I walked down the aisle, but now, I don’t even know if I should marry James. He saved the pearls for me after he had people clean up the apartment. He was so good to me. Helped me with everything at first, but now, he’s changed. I wish you were here to tell me what to do. I’m so confused.”

Before I can continue, James’ ringtone sounds out from somewhere next to me on the ground. I should’ve known he’d call me. There’s no hiding from him. My car has a GPS system attached to it and James can read my location in real time. He says it’s for my protection, but I’m not convinced of that anymore. I think he’s desperate to know what I’m doing at all times.

I scurry to find my phone. The case is wet from the damp grass and by the time I clean it off with a tissue, the ringtone stops. I hold the phone and wait for the voicemail alert.

I hear the ping, and sure enough, I have a message waiting. I’m inclined just to call him and skip listening, but I’d prefer to know his mood. I hit the screen for the message to play.

“Harlow Masters. Call me as soon as you listen to this. I know where you are,” James says in a strangely calm voice, but his use of my last name spells trouble. He only uses it when he’s introducing me to others.

“Mom, I have to go, but I’ll be back soon.” I place my bag over my shoulder and kneel quietly for a moment of silence in front of her grave, trying to steal a few more seconds with her before I call James back.

“I want to make you proud. I love you, Mom.” My voice cracks and I fight back the tears. My heart knows she’d say those same words back if she were sitting beside me.

I grab my heels and pull myself up to stand on my bare feet. I don’t want this time of ours to end, so I decide to take a memory of her with me. I open the camera app on my phone and take a quick snapshot of her tombstone. It might seem macabre, but since she wasn’t one to get caught in a photo, I have only a handful of memories from our life together.

I begin to walk back toward my car, but stop after a few feet. I look over my shoulder and move my lips to silently say goodbye again.

I’m in the driver’s seat of my car behind the dark tinted windows. They may shield me from immediate view, but not from James. I imagine him holding his phone, waiting for me to call. He knows the car hasn’t moved from its spot.

Knowing the longer I delay, the more time he has to stew in anger, I press “call back” and start the engine to circulate some cool air.

“Harlow, hold on,” he spits out his order like a drill sergeant. In the background, I hear a woman, probably a nurse, talking to him, and then silence. He’s put me on mute. I worry my lip as I wait for him to return.

“What the hell are you doing at the cemetery?” Though he’s talking barely above a whisper, his tone is laced with venom. I am sure he’d be yelling into the phone if he weren’t at The Clinic. “I thought I told you that place was off limits without me.” He takes several breaths, slow and deep.